Welcome to Heaven
by kitsunicorn
Summary: Welcome to Hell Sockathan reverse AU! I will update once a week. "Wake up, go to school, homework, go to bed. Wake up, go to school, homework, go to bed. Jonathan's life seemed to have become a well-oiled machine engineered to do exactly this, over and over again. Honestly, he was sick of it."
1. Chapter 1

Faint pre-dawn light filtered through a thin curtain and settled on Jonathan's eyelids. He groaned and shifted slightly in his bed, weighing the consequences of sleeping for another hour against going to school. The mental scale tipped towards the latter when the insistent buzz of his alarm clock shrilled through the messy room. With a defeated sigh, he sat up and rubbed his eyes clear of sleep before slamming his hand down on the clock. A few well-used minutes later, he was out the door, shimmying into his grey sweater with a slice of toast in his mouth.

He noted the sun barely heaving itself over the horizon as he started across the street. Jonathan took the brief moment of silence to hook up his phone to his purple headphones, and to ponder toast. Bread was already cooked, mind you. Why do you have to burn it again?

Just as he stepped onto the curb, the yellow monstrosity that also happened to be his ride to school pulled up in front of him. The door opened with a breathy sigh, insisting that he step inside. Sliding the headset over his ears, his quietly stepped onto the bus.

From his seat near the back of the vehicle, the teen gazed out the window. Houses and cars and parks and trees passed at increasing speeds. Jonathan liked to imagine this was a metaphor for life. There's just so much of it, and it goes by so slow and dull at first. But then it gets more exciting, and then you actually get to live it. Unfortunately, he was still on the boring part.

Wake up, go to school, homework, go to bed. Wake up, go to school, homework, go to bed. Jonathan's life seemed to have become a well-oiled machine engineered to do exactly this, over and over again.

Honestly, he was sick of it.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop, followed by a deafening screech. The bus was filled with the a screams of the few student who wake up at this ungodly hour as it spun to the right and skidded to a near halt. From there it tilted ever so slightly. Inch by inch, then by increasing intervals, the vehicle tipped over. There was a crash of all of the windows shattering, then silence.

After a few excruciatingly long seconds, the bus driver cautiously asked, "Is everyone okay?"

Jonathan quickly looked over himself. There were fragments of glass embedded in this skin, mostly on his right side, where he was pressed against the asphalt inside a window frame. Aside from that, however, he was miraculously unhurt.

That's when the truck hit.

...o0o...

With the shred of consciousness he was slowly regaining, Jonathan knew he was way too comfortable. He felt as though he was lying on a fluffy cloud.

A soft, loving hand pressed against his temple, while another stroked his hair. An a soothing hum filled the air. Jonathan slowly opened his eyes to meet a pair of dark purple ones that seemed to hold the galaxy. The warm, cocoa-colored face that the eyes belonged to smiled down at him, still flat on his back, and said a few simple words that should have stunned him for the better part of a minute, had time existed:

"Hello, Jonathan. My name is Providence. Welcome to Heaven."


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan lay silent for a few moments, attempting to process what the angelic voice had said.

"Wait… So, I'm dead?" He inquired faintly.

Her laugh was pure and clear, and sounded like the noise one would imagine glitter made.

"Yes, you have clinically died. Your heart has stopped beating, and your lungs have stopped breathing. Thoroughly, your body has stopped working."

The teen slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings. He previously thought he was outdoors, but upon closer inspection, he saw the suggestion of wall and a ceiling. The wallpaper seemed to shift like stars in a night sky, planets and galaxies and nebulas floating and colliding. Feeling around the floor, he was reminded that he was still way more comfortable than should be humanly possible. Beneath his fingers was-what go you know? He was literally lying on a cloud.

"So if this is Heaven, are you God?"

"I supposed I am the closest thing to your human concept of a higher being."

He turned to examine the woman-Providence. She had skin like rich chocolate, smooth and dark. Her purple pixie-cut hair waved in a nonexistent breeze, and glittered as though covered in thousands of crushed diamonds. The ethereal divinity wore a plain, white sundress and large gold hoop earrings.

After the few minutes of study Providence seemed to decide were sufficient, she extended an arm to the teen. "Need a hand?"

Jonathan gratefully took it with a polite "Thank you."

"This is my office." She gestured to the room surrounding them. With the wave of her hand, a desk, complete with two overstuffed chairs, and file cabinet appeared in the far left corner. As the blonde lowered himself into a seat, Providence poised, "Do you know why you are here, Mr. Combs?" She made her way to the opposite side of the table.

Jonathan thought back to the wreck. "Because I died in an accident?"

Providence leaned over the desk slightly and chuckled. "You don't get into Heaven just for not killing yourself. No, you are here because you had hope. You lived life as though you knew you had something to look forward to. You did things that helped your future, and nothing to hinder anyone else's. You may have kept to yourself, but you didn't harm others in the process."

He pondered this for a moment. "So… I'm here because I was good?"

"That is part of it, but you also believed that there was something more important you were building up to."

Jonathan found this a bit surprising. He had, of course, always imagined that his life would get better and more meaningful, but he had never really grasped the concept of an afterlife.

"...And here I am to deliver. Now, this guardian angel position I'm about to offer you is kiiiiinda a big deal."

This piqued Jonathan's interest.

"So I get wings and a halo and all that?"

"Sort of. You will also be assigned to a human counterpart. It will be your job to guide, comfort, save, and be a general help to this person until they learn to correct their ways."

"You mean I have to _tell_ people what to do?!" Jonathan never liked interacting in a group, much less be in charge of one. It wasn't that he was shy, he just wasn't motivated by working together. The blonde always felt more productive alone, and therefore had no idea how to boss someone around.

"Not exactly. You get to help people take charge of _themselves_." She paused while he mulled it over, then continued. "You'd work 9-5, and have Sundays off."

Jonathan considered this briefly. "And if I decline your offer?"

Providence sighed. "I certainly hope you don't."

"Ha, well, can't argue with that."


	3. Chapter 3

Jonathan looked over the file containing his first assignment as he strolled up to the bus stop.

 _Napoleon Maxwell Sowachoski_

 _Age: Teen_

 _Eyes: Wide and Bright_

 _Hair: Covered with Hat_

 _Likes: Death_

 _Dislikes: Being Alone_

He sighed, understanding what about him needed to be "corrected." When he was alive, he had known wannabe emos that faked a love of gore, but he never thought it was genuine.

The teen glanced up from the folder to see the queer looking teen from the photo. Napoleon was dressed in a blue t-shirt and brown sweater vest, topped with a red scarf. A large red aviator hat with yellow goggles was snugly rested on a mess of red hair. But the strangest part was a purple skirt over ripped jeans.

 _Well, like YOU'RE on to judge._

Napoleon caught sight of the angel. Apparently, he was oblivious to any holiness about Jonathan, so he gave a cute lil wave and sheepish smile.

 _This is probably the part where I'm supposed to tell myself I'm not gay,_ Jonathan thought. Frankly, though, Jonathan had come to terms with his pansexualness over a year ago, so thoughts like these didn't bug him anymore.

The blonde lazily waved back as the bus arrived. The door squeaked open encouragingly, and his human quickly scampered on. For (as far as Jonathan could tell) the second time that day, he lifted his headphones onto his ears and followed Napoleon onto the vehicle. The blonde found it strange that he was still wearing the same clothes he died in, somehow including his phone.

Jonathan encountered some difficulty following Napoleon to his seat, having fallen through the floor of the bus. Providence had warned him about this. If he didn't concentrate, he could lose track of what he would and wouldn't phase through.

 _If I had wings, I wouldn't have to worry about standing,_ Jonathan grumbled in his head while easing his way up through the floor. That was another thing: he had to earn his wings by completing his first assignment. He could hover in the meantime, but he was told that with wings he had more control and ability.

Jonathan floated to Napoleon's seat, unsure of what to do next. Before he could do anything more, the human looked up and saw his guardian angel standing awkwardly nearby. He lifted his bag with a grin and patted the seat next to him. The angel exhaled and sank into the bench.

"Hi! You must be new? My name is Sock! What's yours?"

 _Sock._ The goofy nickname made Jonathan crack a smile, the first in a long time.

"I'm Jonathan, nice to meet you."

Sock smiled giddily, as if he hadn't spoken to anyone in a while.

"Hello Jonathan! I think we're gonna be great friends."

"I certainly hope so," Jonathan grumbled.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite his startling appearance, Sock was kind of a neat kid. He seemed extraordinarily bright, and was very passionate when he spoke. Unfortunately, he drew some strange looks while talking to the angel, and Jonathan realized he probably couldn't be seen by most people. The brunette didn't seem to mind, though, almost as if he was used to these kinds of glances.

Sock pressed between other children's bodies, giving Jon the grand tour of the school.

"… This building contains the upperclassmen rooms, Junior on the bottom, Seniors on the top. The same goes for that one, Sophomores upstairs, Freshies down." A hand was waved in the general direction of a structure as he named each building clockwise around the campus. "That's where the offices are, and there's the elective building."

Jonathan found the the fact that the two approached the first area named rather odd, given Sock's height and relatively immature demeanor, both of which were lesser than his own.

"What grade are you in, Sock?" He asked, voicing his confusion.

The human blushed, tugging the flaps of his colorful hat down around his head. "I'm… I'm a Junior. In fourth grade, my teacher couldn't keep up with my pencil, so they started me on work from a grade up. I skipped fifth grade because I had already learned all of the material in all the time I had to kill."

Dumbfounded, a "Woah," was all Jonathan could manage.

Almost immediately after arriving to the door of Sock's first class, the bell rang, and the crowd began to disperse to their respective rooms.

"Ah, do you have your schedule yet?" the human asked. He pointed to the glass door at the exit of the building. "If not, the registration office is that way, I'm sure they could pull it up for you."

 _Oh boy_. Jon had been dreading this topic. He wasn't exactly sure how to go about telling someone you were dead, like " _Hey! I'm actually your guardian angel, so you'd better shape up!"_ He twiddled his fingers together anxiously. "Here's the thing. I kinda don't actually go to this school…" The conversation probably would have gone completely south if someone hadn't chosen to walk right through Jonathan mid-sentence.

Sock had taken up blinking repeatedly and stuttering half-formed questions. He looked like he had seen a ghost, which frankly seemed to be the most logical explanation for the situation.

"So yeah," Jonathan continued awkwardly, not sure where to go from there. "I'm your… Guardian Angel."

...o0o…

"So… You're really a ghost?"

Jonathan chuckled, hovering over the Sock's shoulder. "Angel, actually."

Sock poked at his food with a fork, not sure what to make of his current predicament. He looked up from his corner of the lunch room, searching for answers to unvoiced questions.

"Can they see you?" he asked.

"I suppose not."

"Can they hear us?"

"They can hear YOU. You're talking to yourself."

Sock looked up with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I doubt it; nobody cares enough to listen to me."

"Why do you think that?" Jonathan probed after a short moment of silence.

The brunette scoffed. " _Think_ that? I _know_ that! I mean honestly: would you want to be associated with the homicidal skirt-wearing boy?"

"I suppose I have no choice at this point, do I?" he teased.

"You know, you're kind of an okay person, Jonny," Sock stated, grinning.

"Hey, you're not so bad yourself."


End file.
